Just a Dance
by enits3
Summary: Post 04.08 - How would it go if Sam and Andy danced at the wedding? This is how it goes in my mind.


**Authors note**: Just a little something that forced its way into my brain today, so I thought I'd share it With you guys. I know so many of you Sam/Andy shippers really wanted a dance at the wedding (me included), and since we didn't get it, we just have to make it happen ourselves.

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- Just a Dance -

Sam was sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of scotch, as his eyes wandered over the room. A small smile made its way on his lips as he watched Oliver dance with Celery for the nth time that night, happy for his friend who seemed happier than he'd been in a while.

He'd taken off his suit jacket hours ago, loosened his tie that felt like it were slowly choking him, and rolled up the sleeves of the white shirt he wore. His eyes took another scan of the room, intentionally he wasn't sure, but they landed on Andy. She was out on the dance floor, shoes long forgotten and now bare feet, dancing with Tracy and Chloe. She had a wide smile on her face as she twirled and swayed her body in tact with the music, and he couldn't help the smile he felt on his own lips, watching her smiling like that. A familiar and what used to be a welcoming feeling crept over him while he watched her. Only now, the feeling also made him uneasy. Making him feeling like he had no right to those feelings watching her caused him anymore. It wasn't fair to her, and it wasn't fair to Marlo. So he turned his attention back to his glass, in hopes of making it go away.

Unfortunately it didn't, because a few minutes later, a panting Andy slumped down in the chair next to him, offering him a friendly smile. "Hey," she said, before she raised her hand to the bartender. "Can I have a beer? A cold one?" she asked, smiling at him. She turned her attention back to Sam as she waited for her drink. "Having fun?"

Sam bit the inside of his cheek before he responded, "yeah, sure. I just love weddings" he replied a little sarcastically, smirking at her as he took another sip of his scotch.

Andy wrinkled her nose a little, "C'mon Sam, weddings _are _fun."

"Can't say that I agree with you there, McNally," he said, looking over at her. She was almost pouting at him, and with a roll of her eyes she bit back;

"That's because you're sitting here sulking with your scotch." She got up from her chair and Sam had to silence the sigh of relief. "Come dance with me," she said, more a demand than a question, offering her hand out to him.

Sam eyed her hand, feeling surprised, slightly shaking his head a little. "I don't dance, McNally," he said, taking another sip of his drink. He was hoping she'd just leave, and was definitely not expecting her to ask him to dance.

"Well, _I_ do. And since Dov and Nick aren't anywhere to be found right now, _you _willbe my victim." She grabbed his hand, pulling him up with the help of her weight and started to walk backwards. At the insecure look on his face, she laughed. "It's just a dance, Sam."

He let out a frustrated laugh, but willingly went with her towards the dance floor, their timing almost perfect as slow tunes of music filled the room. Just as she reached the edge of the dance floor, Sam grabbed her hand and put his other on her hip, giving her a tiny push and spinning her away from him. She laughed loudly as her twirling came to a stop, her arm extended toward his and their hands still clasped together. "Impressive," she said, a clearly surprised smile touching her lips.

"Don't get too excited," he warned with a laugh, "that's pretty much all I got," he said, using his grip on her hand to pull her back to him. As soon as their bodies made contact, they both froze, and Sam felt Andy go rigid against him. He didn't move, loosening his grip on her hand and giving her the option to pull away if she wanted to.

And then suddenly he felt the tension leave her body, first from her shoulders, then her arms, and then her torso, so that she literally melted into him. He swallowed hard as he placed his free hand on her lower back, and he was taken aback when she started to move first, setting the pace and swaying gently to the music. It only took him a second to follow her lead, and when he felt her hand slide up his back and come to rest just below the nape of his neck, he inhaled a shaky breath, hoping she couldn't feel his heart slamming against his ribs.

He had no idea what song was playing. He didn't even know if he was moving in time to the beat. The only thing he was aware of was her body against his, the softness of her breasts pressing just below his chest, her arm around his back, tightening infinitesimally as the dance continued so that she kept pulling his body closer to hers. He didn't know if she was doing it intentionally or if it was the result of the alcohol she had consumed during the night coursing its way through her system, but he allowed her to do it, trying with all his might not to focus on the way her hips were moving. She turned her head, resting it against his shoulder, and he was assaulted with the scent of her hair. Instinctively, he turned toward it, completely overwhelmed with the desire to press his lips to the back of her head. She continued dancing, her movements fluid and simple but provocative nonetheless, and he could imagine what it would be like to hold her this way without the barrier of clothes between them. And worse, he _remembered_ how it would feel, how perfectly they fit together, how effortless it used to be.

Sam's hand moved on her lower back and without his consent, his fingers curled, and he dragged the tips of them ever so lightly up the length of her back. He could feel her shudder against him, but she made no move to pull away, and so he trailed them back down again, his fingertips ghosting the vale of her spine.

The song ended, switching to something upbeat and pulsing, and Sam was completely torn between utter relief and the consuming desire for it to go on forever. She lifted her head off his shoulder, her arm still around his back and her hand clasped in his, and he tilted his head, so his eyes would meet hers. She met his stare, her eyes dropping to his lips for a second before she lifted them back to his, and it was as if the air around them got thicker. The tension so intense between them that he was sure everyone else on the dance floor could feel it too.

She seemed to realize this at the same time; he felt her grow tense against him as her eyes widened in alarm. "I read Moby Dick while I was undercover, " she sputtered put, a desperate attempt at easing the tension.

Sam pulled back from her slightly. "What?" he murmured, fighting the urge to sweep her hair away from her face, a confused smile gracing his lips.

«Yeah, I remembered I found it in your undercover apartment that first day we were partnered. So I figured I'd give it a try. See if it helped put me to sleep at night," she said with an awkward laugh.

Sam stared at her, watching the flush color her cheeks, and she averted her eyes. "Well… did it?"

She shook her head, licking her dry lips before she scrunched up her face, "No it just made me think of…" she trailed off as she shrugged her shoulders with a sad smile.

She pulled away from him then, pressing one hand just below the base of her throat as she walked backwards of the dance floor. She let out a breath as she watched him and then shook her head again as she turned her back to him. He watched her rush toward the doorway that would take her out to the terrace, and he closed his eyes and set his jaw. He inhaled deeply before opening his eyes and looked around the room, suddenly aware of the other guests.

"Yeah… just a dance," he murmured before he returned to the bar.

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Sharing your thoughts about this with me is much appreciated :)


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